


Bad Day For Business

by kampix



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Humor, Mr Fell and sunglasses' guy: terrors of the antique books community of London, POV Outsider, Post-Canon, the nature of their relationship is not for mortals to know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26842441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kampix/pseuds/kampix
Summary: "My good sir, I was promised an original, and this copy is anything but that."Philip sighed. The promise of getting to sell a book to Mr Fell was almost always worth it. Almost...
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 301
Collections: Outstanding Outsider POVs





	Bad Day For Business

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Bad Day For Business](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27092614) by [ruanxiaole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruanxiaole/pseuds/ruanxiaole)



"My good sir, I was promised an original, and this copy is anything but that."  


Philip sighed. The promise of getting to sell a book to Mr Fell was almost always worth it. Almost...  


"Look, like I've told you, I've dated it and everything. I've checked with three different specialists. It's the real deal."  


"Specialists..." Mr Fell scoffed. "That binding glue is at least half a century away from the original publishing date."  


Oh, it was one of _those_ days...  


"No, it's not. It was standard even."  


"Not in _that_ specific region."  


Philip frowned. He had good info on this book and on the binding method used for it. It matched everything else he'd researched. Of course Mr Fell would disagree...  


"I've never heard of this. Where'd you get your info from?"  


"I didn't get it _from_ anywhere, dear boy." Mr fell huffed. "I was— I—" he trailed off. "Oh dear..."  


There was a pause. Philip didn't dare say anything.  


"Would you excuse me a moment." Without any other warning, Mr Fell left his shop.  


And came back a minute later, looking a bit sheepish.  


"Where might I find the nearest phone?"  


There were some things one simply did not question with Mr Fell. Why he might be looking for a payphone in the middle of London was one of them.  


"There's no payphone around here. Don't you have a cell phone?"  


Mr Fell looked surprised. "You have one?" he asked.  


"Everyone has one these days," Philip replied, fishing his IPhone out of his pocket.  


"Oh, perfect. I won't be a moment."  


Mr Fell had seemed so delighted as he'd snatched his phone from his hand, Philip felt it would be rude to ask to have it back. He simply stood there awkwardly, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he watched the older man struggle with the touch screen. He seemed to get the hang of it after a moment and Philip was so mesmerized by his fumbling he forgot to wonder how Mr Fell got past his lock screen.  


"It's me." Mr Fell said cryptically to his phone.  


Someone else was on the other end of the line, but Philip couldn't make out any words. Presumably, it was the sunglasses' guy often seen with Mr Fell.  


"What do you mean who is this? _You_ told me to stop saying my name when I call you."  


"..."  


"Well you've got that caller identification gadget of yours."  


"..."  


"Why would it not tell you I was the one calling?"  


"..."  


"Well, you could've said so before."  


"..."  


"What? Oh, yes, I need your help."  


"..."  


"I'm perfectly alright, but do you remember that little monastery in Austria?"  


"..."  


"No. In Austria. That one was in Hungary I believe."  


"..."  


"Yes. Would you be a dear and get the box with my manuscript from the bookshop?"  


"..."  


"Of course, _now_."  


"..."  


"On the second floor, yes."  


"..."  


"No, not just the manuscript, the whole box."  


"..."  


"Am I what?"  


"..."  


"Oh. How nice of you to offer, my dear. I was getting rather peckish."  


"..."  


"Which one?"  


"..."  


"Oh, they do make the most wonderful danishes."  


"..."  


"Strawberry, if you please."  


"..."  


"Yes, I'll be waiting. Do try not to run over any pedestrian."  


Mr Fell handed him back his phone, his conversation over. Philip wasn't sure what to do about it and simply pressed the button to end the call before slipping the phone back into his pocket.  


"I do apologize for the wait," Mr Fell said. "My associate will be over shortly. I happen to own some legitimate works written and published in the same region and time frame as this one pretends to be."  


They waited in silence, standing upright. Philip wondered if he should've been offering tea. After a few minutes, the screech of tires was heard outside and a black car parked itself illegally in front of the shop. It turned out he'd been right about the identity of the other person on the phone. Sunglasses' guy entered his shop, carrying a somewhat substantial wooden box and a small takeout box. Philip thought to ask how the man had known where to go, not having once heard Mr Fell share a location while on the phone. He then thought better of it, and didn't ask.  


"Hey angel. Here." The small box was handed to Mr Fell, who practically radiated delight at the sight, while the larger one was placed on the ground. "I was having a really nice nap so this better not just be to prove a point again."  


Proving a point? Oh no...  


"Of course it is," Mr Fell protested. "I can't let such misinformation stand you know."  


"You're not even gonna buy the damn book."  


Philip could feel a headache coming on.  


"I hardly see what that has to do with anything."  


"Sir, if you're not buying I—" he tried, but his sentence was cut short by two equally chastising looks. The quality of which was matched only by the ones he used to get from his mother whenever he'd disappointed her.  


"Right, I'll be napping in the car when you're done."  


Sunglasses' guy waved casually as he left the shop. Philip could only stare, though he felt strangely compelled to wave back. Mr Fell was staring at him expectantly. It was the kind of face you couldn't just say no to. Philip sighed and sat down on the chair next to his counter. He'd be closing shop late today...

**Author's Note:**

> Turns out one-sided phone calls are a whole lot of fun to write :3


End file.
